


The 12 Trees of Christmas

by GoodbyeBlues



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Barnes family feels, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Chubby bucky barnes, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Like really this is one big fluff fest, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, Shy Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Gets a Hug, There's like .5 seconds of Bucky POV, To sum this fic up in one word:, and also PINE-ing, because of the trees, chubby bucky, just a little smut though, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodbyeBlues/pseuds/GoodbyeBlues
Summary: 'Suddenly 'soft' and 'dark' and 'lush' were no longer adjectives fit to be tied to just his Douglas Fir, because the man from the ladder was approaching him, a shy smile on his flawless face, and Steve was totally gone.'...Steve purchases an outrageous number of Christmas trees and accidentally creates a tiny apartment forest, all because he needs an excuse to visit adorably shy tree farmer Bucky Barnes. Lots of fluff and Christmas feels abound! <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Welcome to part one of six for my first ever Christmas fic! This fic is almost completely finished, so I'll be updating once a week until Christmas. 
> 
> I just want to note that although this is Cap!Steve and Amputee!Bucky, those elements really aren't what the story is about. Bucky is also described as being chubby, but in a comfortably soft sort of way, not in a chubby kink way. I like the depth that those backgrounds give the characters, but we won't really be dealing with any issues that come with those characteristics. I feel like Bucky deserves to be well fed and plump and loved so this is indulging that. Expect lots of fluff and love and hugs to come, and thanks as always for reading! <3
> 
> Edit: There is now artwork by [warlockintraining!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockInTraining/pseuds/WarlockInTraining) Their first drawing is at the end of chapter one, the second is at the end of chapter three, and the third will be posted with chapter six on December 23rd. Thank you again for your beautiful work and generosity! <3<3<3

 

The first tree was bought on a bit of a whim.

 

It was December 1st, and Steve could feel the delight of the impending holiday buzzing happily in the air. Steve loved every minute of it; the wisps of hot cocoa steam curling around his chilly nose in the cool wind, the fluffy dusting of new snow decorating tree branches with glittering white, the way everyone on the sidewalk seemed a little lighter, a little more pleasant, as the calendar counted down the days to Christmas. It was all adding up into one big ol’ snowglobe of good tidings, and Steve was a little giddy with it. So he couldn't really be blamed for what he was about to set in motion, because what happened next was basically like fate. _Christmas_ fate, in fact, which is the fate-iest fate of them all.

 

Steve was stepping out of his usual corner coffee shop, stomach comfortably full and warm from his breakfast sandwich and gingerbread coffee (Steve was unashamed of his admitted affection for hipsterdom - independent coffee shops, beards, and plaid shirts were essential to his life now), when he noticed the trees. In fact, _noticed_ was perhaps too passive of a word, as it was more so that Steve was delightfully _assaulted_ by the trees. A miniature forest of them, set up on a newly cordoned off section of sidewalk and road directly around the corner from Steve’s favourite breakfast joint. Steve was met with a face full of Douglas Fir, soft and dark and lush, an iconic example of a classic Christmas tree, and it was like being smacked in the face by the holiday itself. The new display was already impressive considering Steve had only been in the coffee shop for an hour or so, and there had been no trace of the tree market when he had passed by on entry.

 

Trees of all variety lounged about the large space, resting against wooden sawhorses as they awaited further setup before completing the final leg of their journey to their new homes. It was a beautiful assortment of evergreens, but the ferociously face-smacking Douglas Fir stood the tallest and proudest among them, and Steve _had_ to take it home. _This_ was his Christmas tree.

 

He wandered around the lot looking for the salesperson, his eyes soon landing on a figure up on a ladder, currently in the process of stringing a line of classic Edison bulbs across the open space.

 

Steve’s gaze traveled up from a pair of well worn hiking boots to the dark blue jeans that hugged the man’s sinfully thick pair of thighs, and Steve’s eyes stopped there, momentarily laser focused and locked on to the beauty of a perfectly full ass, before the man, humming some sort of indistinguishable tune under his breath, began to descend the ladder, opting at the end to jump lightly to the ground rather than use the last rung. Suddenly _soft_ and _dark_ and _lush_ were no longer adjectives fit to be tied to just his Douglas Fir, because the man from the ladder was approaching him, a shy smile on his flawless face, and Steve was totally  _gone._

 

Strands of thick chocolate hair whispered and kissed around a delectably soft jawline, a few days worth of stubble contrasting exquisitely with the baby like smoothness of his winter-pale skin. His wide mouth was pink and full, straight white teeth peeking through as his shy smile shone like the sun towards Steve and continued upwards to light grey eyes, crinkling delightfully at the corners where laugh lines and emotion lived in holy matrimony next to dark lashes. He was exquisitely beautiful, comfortable and plush and sexy in a thick black sweater that curled protectively around a delicately softened midsection, and Steve was completely and utterly fucked.

 

“Uh, hi. I can… I mean. Can I help you?” The man's awkward greeting combined with his Brooklyn drawl was the final nudge that pushed Steve over the edge of the cliff from admiration to adoration, and Steve had to fight down a strangled garble of words to grasp clumsily at any thread of a coherent sentence.

 

“Hello, yes, the Douglas Fir? I’m very interested in it. It’s beautiful, and I'd love to take it home.” A brisk gust of wind accompanied Steve’s words, and the man’s cheeks pinked up delightfully at the cool touch of breeze.

 

“Um, of course! I don't usually sell the trees...” he trailed off, looking around the market, likely for the actual salesperson and coming up empty handed, “but I can help you out today,” he picked back up, his shy smile growing a touch wider, and Steve had to consciously lock his knees lest they collapse out from under him in a fit of lust.

 

“That'd be great, thanks. So what do you normally do if you don't sell trees, if you don't mind my asking?” Steve inquired as they walked back towards his chosen Fir. The attempt at smalltalk seemed to catch the man off guard, and he quickly met Steve's gaze before looking away again.

 

“Oh, uh, I work at the main tree farm overseeing the planting and harvesting, when I'm not in school. I'm getting my Masters in Environmental and Conservation Sciences,” he added with a blush at the unspoken question from Steve's raised eyebrows. “So I can pretty thoroughly confirm Doulgas’ are a great tree.  One of the most popular for Christmas in fact.” His fingerless-glove clad hand reached out and gently brushed the branches of Steve's chosen tree, the soothing wintertime-warmth fragrance of pine with a hint of orange wafting up as the soft needles were stirred. “It's an excellent tree for heavier ornaments as well. It's got great needle retention and strong branches, despite how soft the needles are,” he added quietly.

 

“Soft, strong and beautiful. Sounds perfect,” Steve murmured as the man finally released the branch, his cheeks pinking up again despite the fact that there hadn't been any wind this time. Their eyes met again, and as man let loose a slightly strangled cough to clear his throat, Steve suddenly hoped he wasn't getting sick from being out in the cold. The flush had yet to disappear from his cheeks.

 

“Do you need help attaching it to the top of your car?” The brunette was staring intently at the tree now, and Steve attempted to bring his thoughts back to the business at hand.

 

“I live just a few blocks over and walked today, so thank you, but I can manage.” Steve finally responded.

 

The man nodded his head agreeably and before Steve knew it, money was exchanging hands and Steve was wracking his brain for any way to extend their interaction, for even just another few moments.

 

His eyes caught on the sign hung behind the makeshift counter and cash box and Steve jutted his chin at it, his hands now busy stabilizing his perfect new Christmas tree. “Barnes Family Trees? Are you a Barnes?”

 

The man nodded, smile once again turning shy as he held out his right hand, the empty sweater sleeve on his left pinned up neatly and out of the way. “Oh yes, sorry! Bucky Barnes.”

 

“Bucky Barnes.” Steve tested the weight of the name on his tongue, and as Bucky flushed beautifully for the third time that day, Steve vowed to bring him a hot drink the next time he passed by in an attempt to warm him up. It was unfortunate that someone who worked outdoors in the winter took a chill so quickly.

 

Steve balanced the tree with one arm before reaching out with the other, their hands clasping across the counter. “Steve Rogers. Thank you for the tree, and for your help Bucky.”

 

Bucky nodded, grey eyes meeting Steve’s own blue for a hesitating breath before moving away, and Steve's heart composed eighteen new verses of an epic love poem before he realized his time was up, and it would be awkward to keep standing here and staring.

 

With a departing nod in Bucky's direction, Steve turned and began weaving his way back through the trees, his own Fir carried along fairly easily beside him. He was just about to turn the corner, not daring to take a final glance back, when Bucky suddenly shouted “come again!” and Steve could no longer resist, he turned with a smile and a wave, taking in the wondrous sight of Bucky Barnes one last time, before actually leaving and mulling over that final statement.

 

 _Come again._ Steve would be damned if he didn't.  

 

* * *

 

 _“Come again,”_ Bucky muttered to himself, scrubbing his gloved hand roughly over his face once Steve was out of sight. “It's a goddamn Christmas tree lot Barnes. You think _Captain fucking America_ himself is gonna need more than one tree? You're a mess.”

 

As fate would have it though, only two days later, Bucky Barnes was more than pleased to find out Steve Rogers did in fact need another Christmas tree. And then another. And then another…

 

Soft Bucky by [warlockintraining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockInTraining/pseuds/WarlockInTraining)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warlockintraining used their crazy amazing art skills and drew Bucky!! A million heart eyes and soft Bucky hugs to you, I am so in love with this!! They did another image as well which I will post with the final chapter on December 23rd, because it fits very nicely with the end. :)<3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's technically a new week, so here's chapter 2! The rest will be posted weekly on Sundays, so the final chapter will be December 23rd. Thanks for the response to the first chapter, hope you enjoy! ❤

 

The cocoa was burning its way through the cup to Steve's fingertips as he held it tightly in his hand, hesitating at the edge of the Christmas tree lot like a goddamn teenager waiting by the door for their first date to knock. 

 

Bucky probably wasn’t even working today. He had said himself that he didn’t sell the trees, so why would he even be at the lot anymore? He had obviously been there just for the setup, and that would be that. So there was nothing to worry about. Nothing. Steve would just take a quick look to make sure. He couldn’t let the cocoa go to waste, after all. 

 

As Steve made his way through the trees, somehow both dying to find and actively avoiding any sign of Bucky Barnes, he noticed the space had been completely transformed from the more basic lot it had been two days ago. The Edison lights Bucky had been hanging were the first of at least a dozen strands that now lit the area, the full evergreen trees practically preening in the beauty of the warm glow. The trees themselves appeared to be divided by type now, with cute little blackboard signs supplying the names and major traits of each species. Some of the trees had been decorated as well, simply and naturally in keeping with the outdoor space, but the overall aesthetic it lent the market was remarkable. It was homy and festive and cheerful and cozy, and Steve kind of wanted to grab a sleeping bag and move in, which didn’t even make sense considering this was an outdoor tree lot in the middle of winter. 

 

A friendly “hi, can I help you?” jarred Steve abruptly from his daydream of moving his entire apartment down here, and he turned to see a dark haired young woman grinning at him with a fierce smile. Based on Bucky’s colouring he could only assume this was another Barnes family member, and he was proven right a moment later with her introduction. 

 

“Hi,” she repeated, “I’m Becca Barnes. Can I interest you in a tree today?”

 

“Oh, uh…” Steve hadn’t really considered how to go about this mission beyond getting here (he could practically hear Sam berating his patented Steve Rogers Lack of Planning), so he just kind of bobbed his head and followed along behind Becca as she began pointing out the merits of each species. Becca forged ahead spectacularly, but with each ‘hmm’ and ‘I’m not really sure’ emitted by Steve as she suggested options, he could see she was quickly losing her momentum.

 

“Maybe you need a second opinion,” she offered kindly after 20 minutes, before letting out an ear piercing shriek of “BUCKY!” that made Steve’s eyes cross before turning back to Steve with a kind smile. “My brother will be with you shortly,” she stated, striding off to find what would no doubt be a less frustrating customer. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Becca,” came a murmured sigh from behind a cluster of Red Cedars, and then yes, Steve’s dreams were coming true as Bucky rounded the corner, looking comfy and precious and completely kissable in a layered combination of henley, hoodie, and jacket, a worn black baseball cap topping off the look and securing his jaw length hair away from his face. 

 

He stopped mid-stride once he spotted Steve, and ducked his head before continuing the rest of the way over, only gazing up through his eyelashes to meet Steve’s eyes for a fleeting moment before dropping them back down. The fingers of his right hand fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve, and Steve had to actively resist the urge to take that hand and hold it in his own, ‘til death do them part. 

 

“You need another tree? Was the first one not ok?” Bucky’s voice was soft and unsure, and Steve needed to change that immediately, right now, like ASAP. 

 

“It’s perfect,” he stated quickly, “it’s wonderful. I just… need a second. For the den. Lots of parties going on this year, you know, and I want the place to be extra festive.” Steve was a poor liar, but Bucky’s eyes warmed with the knowledge that the Douglas Fir was still meeting expectations, so Steve didn’t feel too badly about the fib. Hell, the den  _ could  _ fit a tree if he moved some furniture around. 

 

Bucky smiled that small sweet smile of his, and Steve was now considering how quickly he could move apartments to find a place with ten more dens in it. “Were you thinking of another Douglas, Steve, or did you want to try something new?”

 

Steve was suddenly more thankful than ever for the serum, because if this had been the 40’s, he’s fairly certain his heart would have given out. Bucky remembered him. This was almost too much.

 

“I trust your expertise,” Steve finally managed to get out. “What’s your favourite here?” 

 

“Oh.” Bucky blushed and scraped his boot across the ground for a moment in thought, before meeting Steve’s eyes with a hopeful look. “We have a Scotch Pine that’s really impressive. It has a lot of the same traits as the Douglas. It’s a very popular species, but for good reason. I can show you, if you’d like?” 

 

“Absolutely.” Steve replied, and soon they were falling into step beside one another, the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket brushing gently along Steve’s arm. Steve squashed down the urge to squeal like a little kid in delight at the sensation. He was so far gone, it was pathetic. 

 

The Scotch Pine  _ was  _ very impressive, and Steve didn’t hesitate to let Bucky know that it would be a perfect addition to his home. They went through the payment process at the counter, the same as last time, Bucky providing an interesting array of Scotch Pine facts (like that it was also called a Scots Pine, and was in fact the national tree of Scotland) while Steve attempted not to drool all over himself, because besides being beautiful beyond belief, Bucky was also smart as hell. It was a successful interaction as far as Steve was concerned, and he only minorly embarrassed himself at the end when he hefted the tree onto one shoulder to exit the market. He glanced back, fool that he was, and noticing Bucky’s eyes remained on him even after their goodbye, he yelled  _ “Freedom!” _ far too loudly, and in the poorest attempt at a Scottish accent he had ever heard. The cast of Braveheart, not to mention the entire population of Scotland, were likely forming an orderly line to slap him right now, but it was worth it when Bucky barked out a sharp and unexpected laugh, slamming his hand over his pink mouth as if surprised by his own outburst. Steve, buoyed by this outcome, winked smoothly (thank god) and then got the hell out of there with his pride still intact. 

 

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the street with his tree that he realized he still had the now cold hot chocolate clutched in his other hand. 

 

So really, he had no choice but to go back.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday everyone! If you've started reading Time for Home as well, I'll be posting chapter 2 of that tonight. Hope you enjoy! :)

 

It may have been _‘the most wonderful time of the year,’_ but that didn’t mean that duty didn’t call from time to time, and it was only as Steve was boarding the Stark jet back to New York that he realized this mission had taken him away for almost two full weeks.

 

Two weeks, he mused as he navigated his bike through the never ending river of traffic towards home. Enough time for him to have to acquire another box of baking soda for what was now probably a very smelly fridge, and - oh no - his trees. His Christmas trees would be dead.

 

Steve felt an odd pang in his chest at the thought of his beautiful trees wilting away in his home without someone there to water them, their branches going brown and sparse as they slowly dried up. He thought of Bucky’s face, as he had often during his time away, and the look of disappointment Steve deserved from him for being a terrible tree parent. Bucky was getting a Master's degree in Environmental Conservation, and Steve was literally a tree murderer.

 

As Charlie Brown would say, _good grief._

 

As much as Steve wanted to avoid seeing that look of disappointment, the need to see Bucky’s face in general (plus right his tree wrongs) won out, and Steve was suddenly diverting his route to take him towards the Christmas tree lot.

 

“I killed my trees!” Steve exclaimed (probably too) dramatically as soon as he laid eyes on Bucky’s form, currently sitting on a stool and leaning on the checkout counter as he studied an open textbook.

 

“Steve!” Bucky’s head popped up at Steve’s outburst, and _Jesus fucking Christ,_ Bucky had a pair of dark rimmed glasses on today, and also a smile, good god that smile, looking surprised and shy but also apparently happy to see Steve, which was insane, because who was ever happy to see a tree killer?

 

“I went away for work,” Steve began abruptly, needing to clear his conscious and confess to his serial killer spree. “I didn’t remember to ask anyone to water them, I’m so sorry.” Steve dipped his head, metaphorical tail between his legs as he awaited his dozen lashes, but surprisingly, nothing came. Instead, Bucky let out an adorable little chuckle from across the counter and got to his feet. He was in a red and black plaid flannel today with an unzipped coat over top, the buttons of the shirt straining just ever so slightly as he settled on his feet.

 

Steve had spent more than a few of his nights away running over the thought of what exactly about Bucky it was that made Steve so crazy about him. Steve had always considered himself to be an open minded person, not limited to one gender or sexuality or body type when it came to attraction, but something about Bucky just _clicked,_ like a piece of a puzzle fitting in so seamlessly you couldn’t tell the edges had ever even existed. Steve’s own body was all hard plains and unforgiving muscle, built for aggression and war and not much else. Bucky on the other hand was soft, so goddamn soft, in hair and skin and tummy and chest, and Steve had ached those few nights, his imagination getting away from him, as he pictured holding those forgiving curves close to him, nuzzling his nose into the smooth line of Bucky’s jaw as they necked and whispered under the warm covers of Steve’s bed. It was an indulgence he had only allowed himself a few times before shutting it down just as strongly as he had shut down the decidedly not G rated things he’d begun to think about as well. It wasn’t fair to Bucky to be the object of Steve’s fantasies, even if some of those fantasies were as simple as wanting to start each day seeing the sun rise in those perfect light grey eyes, while sharing coffee and kisses together on a lazy morning in bed.

 

“Steve,” Bucky spoke gently with a hint of humour lacing his tone, his lingering amusement at Steve’s dramatics brightening his words and bringing Steve back to the present, “it’s really ok, it happens to the best of us. Can I help you pick out another couple trees? We have a few more Firs in that I think you’d appreciate.”

 

Steve couldn’t help but smile at that, Bucky seeming more confident in his approach this time around as he led him over to a handsome Balsam Fir.

 

“So what were you reading before I interrupted you?” Steve asked as he took in the tree. It was a nice medium size with dark green needles and little pines cones sprinkled throughout. It was also giving off a soothing pine fragrance, and Steve knew it would make his living room smell amazing.

 

“It was a book on paleobiology, and how it can help us manage the environmental concerns of the future. Of course I’m not saying the past is a perfect predictor of the future environment by any means, but it can definitely enrich our understanding of what the future could be, and what the choices before us are as humans continue to impact the… oh.” Bucky trailed off as he noticed Steve staring at him with an open mouth. “Sorry, I’ll stop.”

 

“No, no, please, it’s really interesting!” Steve encouraged. “I only ever went to art school for a while, I was never very book smart. I’d like to hear more.”

 

“Not book smart?” Bucky raised a brow, his embarrassment fading into playfulness. “You’re one of the best military strategists of the last hundred years, Steve.”

 

Steve smiled and shrugged. “I’m basically a glorified map reader,” he joked, “it doesn’t mean I know a thing about plant fossils. Sounds like you’re the expert there.”

 

The blush Steve loved so much was back in full force, and Bucky bit his lip before looking at the ground. “My dad is the real environmental genius,” he deflected, “but I’m trying.”

 

“Well on behalf of the people of Earth who like breathing air and drinking water, thanks for trying.” Steve bumped Bucky with his shoulder, causing him to look up with a small smile. Steve had spoken lightly but had made sure to make his sincerity known, and was glad to see it had registered with Bucky. Too many people had given Steve credit for ‘saving the planet,’ and although he could understand the sentiment, he couldn’t help but believe that Bucky would someday actually deserve that praise. Saving the planet from itself seemed far more difficult than punching out a few bad guys a couple times a week.

 

The mood lightened even further as Steve agreed to the Balsam and they moved on to a sturdy looking Noble Fir, Bucky chatting easily as they examined it together. He spoke more about his book and his degree and the history of their family tree farm, and Steve was over the moon with how open and carefree Bucky seemed now. It was a _real_ conversation, Bucky gesturing enthusiastically with his hand at particularly passionate points, and laughing out loud when Steve managed to throw in a funny remark or two.

 

Steve felt positively warmed through with joy by the time he made it back to his apartment later that evening, his motorcycle temporarily abandoned in a parking space by the lot as he walked his new trees home, Steve himself feeling lighter than air at the memory of Bucky’s unrestrained smile and laugh today.

 

His silly grin faltered for a moment in surprise as he pushed through his apartment door, then spread even wider as he took in his very much alive and thriving Douglas Fir in the living room, and, a quick check confirmed, the equally healthy Scotch Pine in the den.

 

A note on the counter written in Pepper’s smooth script answered his unasked question ( _‘I had someone water your plants and clean the fridge out, hope you don’t mind Steve! Xo - Pepper)_ and Steve could only laugh as he pushed his couch over to make room for the other two trees. It seemed his original fantasy of living at the tree lot wasn't that far off now.

 

The prospect made him wonder what other fantasies had the potential to become reality.

 

He placed that idea on the back burner of his mind and instead got out his phone, thumbing open his Amazon app.

 

Steve was gonna need more string lights.

 

Soft Bucky, now with glasses!! By [warlockintraining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockInTraining/pseuds/WarlockInTraining)

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> Warlockintraining graciously gifted us with another piece of Bucky art for the previous chapter, I highly recommend you click back to check it out if you haven't yet! 
> 
> This chapter is a little short but next week's will make up for it by being quite a bit longer than usual. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, see you next week! :)

 

The next three times Steve went to the tree lot, Bucky wasn't there. 

 

Steve tried to hold in his disappointment at the fact, but the truth was, his heart sank every time he entered the lot that week only to be met by the very helpful, but not at all satisfying, smiles of what seemed to be the very friendly Barnes clan. 

 

The first encounter ended up with Steve face to face with a man greying at the temples, a quiet smile on his face and a knowledge of trees so vast and thorough that he could only be Bucky's father. Steve bought two trees from him out of fear alone at the prospect of meeting the Barnes family patriarch. 

 

The second time went a little better, although Steve was still slightly terrified of the whole encounter, because Bucky's mother was on the lot that day. Mrs. Barnes  _ (“Call me Winnie”) _ had randomly squeezed Steve in a hello hug, which was unusual for a stranger but: #1 Steve was Captain America and so sometimes people just hugged him, and #2, it was Christmas and Steve was also in a huggy mood, so he actually didn't mind. Winnie was short and slightly plump and smelled like Christmas cookies and pine trees and soap, and Steve fell a little bit in love with her as she sold him a Blue Spruce. She called him a “lovely young man, just like my son,” and Steve felt his cheeks light on fire as he hightailed it out of the tree lot with his Spruce over his shoulder. 

 

The third visit brought him back to the clutches of Becca, who gave him a look more severe than the ones he has seen SHIELD interrogators wear, before she nodded to herself and advised Steve that she would tell him Bucky's work schedule… if he bought three trees from her. Steve had always been taught to never negotiate with terrorists, but this was  _ Bucky  _ they were talking about, so he paid the fee and went home with three of the more scraggier trees on the lot. Steve tried not to be embarrassed about her discovery of his intentions, and instead chose to focus on the good deed he was doing of providing a loving environment for these not-so-traditionally-shaped trees. And despite the method in which it was extracted, Steve couldn't help but be on cloud nine with the newfound knowledge of Bucky's schedule at the tree lot.

 

Tomorrow. 

 

Tomorrow Steve would get it right.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't like it was a date, not at all, but Steve took a little extra care getting ready that morning. He trimmed his beard neatly and put on the cologne Natasha had gotten him for Christmas last year but had looked too fancy to use day to day. He put a little product in his hair to keep his cowlicks tamed, and he stood staring at his closet for a good ten minutes before deciding on a navy blue cashmere sweater and a dark washed pair of jeans that were just snug enough to make him feel like he could possibly be in the realm of good looking, like maybe he could see it over the fence from here. He threw on his leather jacket, one step down from his shield on the list of objects that provided him with a sense of security, and was out the door before he could overthink anything else. 

 

He picked up two drinks this time, another gingerbread coffee for himself, because Steve was a creature of habit, and a caramel latte for Bucky, because Becca had said “he likes sweet things,” before sauntering off the previous day in the tree lot, which was equal parts frighteningly presumptuous and helpful. 

 

Steve was ready. He rolled his shoulders, took a breath, and stepped across the threshold into Barnes Family Trees. 

 

He didn't even need to seek Bucky out this time, because with only a few steps in to the property, Bucky found him instead. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky kind of jogged/walked over, like he was trying to keep himself from going too fast, and Steve could totally empathize there, because he was already halfway to proposing marriage and they had spent only a few hours total together in reality. Steve couldn't help it though. Bucky was it for him, he already knew it. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky repeated, a little breathless, his one arm reaching out into the air, almost touching Steve before it was pulled back and shoved in a coat pocket. “I'm so sorry, I had exams. I would have been here but…” Bucky trailed off with a helpless shrug, looking a little defeated, and, as he ran his eyes over the length of Steve's body, more than a little strained as well. 

 

Steve couldn't help it any longer. Hoping he wasn't overstepping, he bridged the gap, taking one step closer to Bucky so their fronts were almost touching before reaching one hand out to rest on a sturdy shoulder, their drinks secure in the recyclable tray in his other hand. 

“It's alright Buck, really. Did they go ok? Oh, also,” Steve squeezed slightly before releasing Bucky's shoulder, “I have a coffee for you. Well, I think it's mostly coffee, there's also caramel in it and I'm not really sure what the line is before it turns from drink to dessert.” Steve met Bucky's widened eyes for a minute before glancing down to the cute little 'o’ shape that was his mouth. God, he was so adorable. 

 

“I, ah, yes,” Bucky stammered, accepting the coffee from Steve, “thank you, um, they were fine, I think I did well.” 

 

“Just 'well?’” Steve teased, letting his amusement curl the edges of his mouth. 

 

Bucky smirked back, finally showing a little more comfort with the tone. “All right,” he conceded with a slight eye roll and a hint of a blush, “maybe I did better than ‘well.’” 

 

“I know you did,” Steve smiled, and the blush decorating Bucky's cheeks darkened beautifully. “Don't sell yourself short.” 

 

Bucky nodded and met Steve's eyes, the grey irises alight with something soft and fond. “I won't.” Bucky paused to take a sip of his drink, a delightful little noise of pleasure escaping his mouth as he tipped his head back and drank. Steve stood transfixed, watching the smooth pale column of his throat bob before Bucky pulled away from the cup, licking pink lips like a satisfied kitten after a bowl of cream. “What kind of tree did you need today?” 

 

Steve cleared his throat. “Dealer's choice.”

 

* * *

Steve could kick himself. 

 

It had not been the plan to go home with another tree, but the way Bucky had looked drinking that coffee, the way he smiled and spoke and was so goddamn smart without ever owning up to it, it lit Steve up and burned hot and fiery in his chest. 

 

Bucky had led him over to a selection of Pines and Steve had been helpless to resist, letting Bucky pick out another tree for him, which he was now hauling up the steps of his building. 

 

He set his new tree in the living room amongst the others, the couch having been relocated to the bedroom to make room for all the greenery. 

 

It was undeniably beautiful, but this wasn't what he had been hoping to accomplish in all his visits. He somehow just couldn't get around to asking Bucky out properly, and always fell back on the needing a tree excuse. 

 

Bucky hadn't seemed aware of his parents’ and sister’s previous sales to him as well, which meant he was especially hard to say no to. 

 

Steve vowed that the next time he set foot on the tree lot, he would not be going home with a Christmas tree.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! We've made it to chapter 5, and I'll be honest, this is my favourite chapter of the fic! I really hope you enjoy it! See you next Sunday for the final update! We're so close to Christmas now!! <3

 

Steve kept his word to himself, because the next time he visited Barnes Family Trees, it was December 24th and the lot was completely empty.

 

He had been called away again, this time to Bolivia where a rogue herd of giant mutant alpacas had been spitting with more enthusiasm than the local law enforcement could handle, and Steve had once again lost track of the days.

 

And now it was Christmas Eve day, and the Barnes Family Trees lot had been scoured over until it was bare.

 

The trees weren't important though, because the person he had come to see was thankfully at the counter, a warm scarf wrapped around his neck and a book in his hand.

 

“Not much left here to sell,” Steve spoke as he approached Bucky, voice soft as not to startle him with his sudden appearance.

 

Bucky's head popped up and he was on his feet in an instant, book discarded and body pressing into Steve's as he wound his arm around Steve's neck in a tight embrace. It was the most unexpected and amazing greeting of Steve's life, and he couldn't help but tuck his nose into the curve of Bucky's jaw for a moment, the smell of trees and winter and _Bucky_ taking over his senses as he squeezed back. Bucky released him after a few breaths, looking slightly embarrassed but not at all regretful.

 

“I saw you on the news, in Bolivia. You got stepped on by a giant alpaca.”

 

Oh yah. Steve rubbed the back of his neck. What even was his life anymore?

 

“It was nothing, no broken bones or anything, just bruised pride,” Steve laughed. “I promise.”

 

Bucky gazed at him for a moment, obviously trying to detect a lie, but there was none to be found so he let it go. They chatted comfortably, catching each other up on what had gone on while Steve had been abroad, Steve soaking it all in after having missed the easy banter and quick wit of Bucky while he was away. They only noticed how much time had passed when the sky began turning a dusky purple above them, the chill in the air more pronounced as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

 

Bucky suddenly looked around and seemed to see the lot with new eyes, his mouth dropping open in horror as he took in the empty space. “We sold out this afternoon,” he said apologetically, chewing his lip idly as he glanced around in thought.

 

Steve was about to interject, to finally admit to Bucky that he wasn't there for a tree, he was there for _him,_ when Bucky spoke up again.

 

“You could come back to the farm with me,” he offered. “My parents live at the tree farm, and I was going to head there for Christmas Eve dinner anyways. We could cut a tree down for you, and then maybe,” Bucky hesitated before meeting Steve's eyes, “maybe you could stay for dinner?”

 

Hope was brimming in light grey irises, and Steve would fight the entire planet to keep that look on Bucky's face permanently.

 

“Buck, I would love to.”

 

* * *

 

While Bucky had said it was a farm, Steve hadn't really expected a _farm_ farm. It was though, and it was one of the cutest places Steve had ever seen.

 

There were trees, yes, row upon row of different trees disappearing into the distance, from tiny little saplings to large full Christmas trees, but there were also animals, and Steve literally had to bite his tongue to keep from letting out a 'squee’ at the sight of them. Little goats nibbled in the fenced in yard of a moderately sized barn, along with a horse, a donkey, and a small flock of chickens pecking about underfoot. There was a llama too, but Steve avoided it, as it's similarities to an alpaca were almost indistinguishable, and Steve had had enough alpaca interactions for the year, thank you very much.

 

“We don't actually farm any animals,” Bucky explained as he led Steve over to the barn, the stretch of his legs feeling good after the 45 minute drive out of the city, although their fluid conversation and Bucky's good taste in music had made it feel like much less. “We only grow and harvest trees here, but we have the barn space and mom always loved the animals.” Bucky reached his hand through the fence and gently scritched a tiny little black and white goat on the head, and Steve was absolutely so in love it was insane.

 

Then Steve was holding a bunny, all tawny brown with floppy ears and wet looking eyes and a twitchy nose, and his life had literally never been better.

 

* * *

 

The snow was thankfully not too deep as they trugged through the drifts, Bucky leading the way with a wide beam flashlight and Steve following close behind with the axe they had retrieved from the barn after getting their fill of the animals. Steve wasn’t sure he would ever technically have enough bunny cuddles to call himself satisfied, but he had gotten pretty damn close tonight.

 

It was fully evening now, and the stars were bright amongst the inky sky this far from the city. Steve stopped walking and tilted his head back for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing deep as the cold air entered his lungs. When he reopened them the brightness of the milky way was almost startling, the contrast of the constellations versus the night sky making something tug in his chest. It was quiet and cool, the wind rustling the tree branches and Bucky's easy in and out breaths the only sounds his enhanced hearing was interested in. He must have been staring at the sky for longer than he thought, because Bucky was beside him suddenly, bumping his shoulder against him companionably.

 

“You know,” Bucky began softly, his voice matching the weight of the night, “the best way to see the stars is actually by lying on the ground. Helps with the perspective.”

 

Steve only had a second to glance at Bucky's face, his solemn expression becoming a wry smile before he threw himself back onto the downy banks of snow, pulling Steve down beside him with a laugh as they pumped their arms and legs in tandem, two new angels appearing on the ground.

 

“Mine is a bit of a flight risk,” Bucky quipped about his one-winged angel, and Steve couldn't help but laugh at that, as Bucky's tone held nothing but happiness, his eyes glittering brightly with amusement from where he lay beside Steve in the snow.

 

They stayed beside one another for another few minutes, relaxing and watching the sky before Steve rolled onto his side to face Bucky. His eyes were still fixed on the sky above, but the corners of his mouth twitched and his cheeks pinked up as though he could feel Steve's eyes on him. Steve took a moment to admire the creamy aura of the starlight as it cut across the slope of his nose, his high cheekbones and brow illuminated softly in the glow. He looked like a winter prince, his dark hair, flushed cheeks, and ruby mouth painting a striking image on the silky white canvas of December.

 

Steve let out a long exhale and levered himself to his feet, holding out a hand for Bucky once he was up. Bucky grabbed it and Steve pulled, and if he didn't release his hand right away, if Bucky tucked in a little closer to his body for a long moment, their breath mingling, eyes locking together before separating, neither chose to comment on it just yet.

 

* * *

 

Bucky led them to a row of Grand Firs and let Steve take his pick, all of the trees impressively full and enchanting under their glittery coats of snow. Steve chose a medium sized one, chopping it down with one swing of the axe which made Bucky roll his eyes with an amused scoff.  

 

“Showoff.”

 

Steve just wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting a laugh from him.

 

It felt pretty fucking great.

 

* * *

 

They made it back to the barn in good time, with no stops for angels this time around, and once they tied the tree to the top of Bucky’s SUV they headed towards the main house together.

 

“I sent my folks a text asking them to set another place at the table, but didn’t mention who you are,” Bucky said a little sheepishly as they stepped into the mudroom, “so please don’t judge me if they freak out at you.”

 

Steve was attempting to figure out how to explain that he had already met everyone when the appearance of Winnie did it for him.

 

“Steve!” Winnie exclaimed, all open arms and rosy cheeks and good cheer. “I was hoping you would be coming tonight. When James sent me a texting message about someone coming for dinner, I said to George, I said ‘George Barnes, if it’s not that young Steve Rogers coming for din-’”

 

“Mom,” Bucky interrupted with a flush, “please stop.”

 

“Oh yes dear, of course,” Winnie appeased with a smile. “Hello Steve.”

 

Steve then found himself wrapped up in the arms of Winnie Barnes for the second time, and although she wasn’t Bucky, and she wasn’t a bunny, it was still a damn good hug. She was roughly half Steve’s height, yet she somehow had enough room in her arms for all of him, and she didn’t hold back with the pressure. It was the hug of a mother, and Steve grasped the back ties of her apron as he kept his eyes shut, suddenly feeling a little raw. He missed his mom, of course he did, but it was usually in a more subtle way, like the ache of an old injury. Being wrapped up in Winnie made that emotion flare to life, and though it hurt, it felt good too. It was more like the ache after a good workout now, when you know you’ll be better for it the next day.

 

Winnie released him with a pat on the back, and a “you make yourself at home now Steve, ooh my turkey!” Before darting off back to the kitchen.

 

Steve chuckled and scrubbed his hands over his face for a minute, removing them to find Bucky giving him a soft look before he took Steve’s hand, and with a reassuring squeeze, led him into the main house.

 

* * *

 

Becca and Bucky’s father George were in the living room, a cribbage board between them and a sour expression on Becca’s face as George’s red pegs took a noticeable lead.

 

“Captain Rogers,” Mr. Barnes greeted, rising to his feet with an extended hand. Steve met the grip firmly.

 

“Please Mr. Barnes, call me Steve.”

 

“Only if you call me George,” he replied with a wink. Becca took advantage of the distraction to move her own pieces forward, Steve raising an eyebrow at the action taking place over Mr. Barnes’ shoulder.

 

 _“Don’t worry,”_ George leaned in with a conspiring whisper, _“I’m about to take the lead again._ Becca?” He asked with his normal volume, “could you get Steve a drink?”

 

Becca huffed and got to her feet. “Hello Steven,” she supplied sarcastically as she swept by. “You’ll be drinking eggnog, yes?” She questioned before leaving the room without waiting for Steve’s answer.

 

“I think she likes you,” George supplied as he got busy moving his pegs forward and Becca’s backwards. “She usually only offers water.”

 

Bucky had his face buried in his hand when Steve sent an incredulous look his way, and all Steve could do was laugh.  

 

* * *

 

Steve’s cheeks were pink by the time he and Bucky loaded themselves back into Bucky’s SUV, the flush of laughter and good food and warmth running from his face down to his core.

 

Winnie’s cooking had been delicious, a full turkey dinner topped off by homemade pies, but the company had been even better. The Barneses were loud and playful, funny and sarcastic, but at the core of it all was the depth of their love for one another. It was evident in the way George and Winnie linked hands easily on the tabletop, the way Bucky and Becca threw witty barbs at one another all night, silly insults and inside jokes making them both laugh loudly as their parents rolled their eyes. Steve had come to realize Becca’s cold exterior wasn’t cold at all, it was a fierce protectiveness for her brother shining through. Steve didn’t know the story behind Bucky’s missing arm, and he honestly didn’t even need to know, not right now, but it was apparent that Bucky’s family realized how special he was, how smart and funny he was behind his shy exterior, and they knew how to draw him out perfectly while simultaneously letting him feel safe. Bucky had been like a lit spark tonight, buffered from the wind by his family surrounding him, and he had glowed because of it. Steve hoped that maybe, as more time passed, he could be counted on by them to add another layer of protection to that forcefield of love.

 

As Bucky glanced over at him from the driver’s seat, his warm smile and bright eyes aimed at Steve, Steve could tell that yes, he would do anything to provide all the love he could for this man.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff in this one almost did me in with feelings lol Steve petting a bunny, snow angels, all those good holiday feelings, but also Winnie Barnes being such a good mom, Becca and George both cheating at cribbage. Uff. The list goes on. My heart!!
> 
> I will say since I don't directly address it, but the Barneses are all aware of the budding relationship between the boys. Bucky would be too shy to mention it, but he's definitely been floating around the tree lot in a daydreamy haze, and Steve has bought like a billion trees, so they (minus Bucky) are totally aware, and ship the hell out of it. :3
> 
> Next week is the conclusion, and our slow burn (is it that, even though it's also like love at first sight?) will finally catch fire! Yay! :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fam, we've made it to the end!! It felt like Christmas was still so far away when I began posting in November, and now here we are, at Christmas Eve eve! Thank you to the incomparable WarlockInTraining for their amazing contribution to this fic! You added such a lovely element to it and I am so grateful for your beautiful work! <3
> 
> Shout out to PetronellaRose as well for mentioning the issue of pine needle fallout which I hadn't considered initially. :)
> 
> And thank you to everyone who read and commented! I think we probably broke the record for the number of times the word 'soft' was used in relation to this fic! :3 I hope you all have a great week and a happy new year!! I love you guys!! <3

 

The drive was over far too soon as Bucky pulled up outside Steve's building and turned off the ignition, the silence of the night now even more prominent without the engine running. The city was still alive, Brooklyn always was, even coming up to midnight, but the sounds of the city seemed muffled to Steve, as if he was underwater. Everything he cared about was narrowed down to the world inside the truck cab.

 

“My parents weren't surprised to see you.” Bucky finally broke the silence, his voice soft.

 

“Yeah.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have visited the tree lot once or twice when you weren't there. Is that ok?”

 

Bucky nodded, looking a little amused. “Becca mentioned she had seen you there one day, but not about you meeting mom and dad. They like you though. So does Becca.”

 

Steve grinned. “I like them too. Thanks again for inviting me Bucky. You and your family are great.”

 

“You're pretty great too Steve,” Bucky whispered into the darkness, looking down at his hand in his lap.

 

The silence resumed for a long moment, Bucky hesitating on the edge of words, and Steve giving him the space and time to do so.

 

Finally Bucky lifted his eyes to meet Steve's gaze, his grey irises looking liquid and silver in the glow of the streetlights. “Can I help you bring the tree up?”

 

“Yeah Buck,” Steve's voice was slightly rough but quiet in the night, not wanting to break the spell between them. “Yeah, I'd love that.”

 

* * *

  

Steve had honestly forgotten about the trees.

 

He had forgotten it wasn't exactly normal to have eleven Christmas trees in your living room, with a twelfth one on the way in.

 

He had forgotten because Bucky was coming upstairs with him.

 

_Bucky_ had asked to _come upstairs,_ and that was why he had forgotten.

 

_Bucky, in Steve's apartment._

 

So when he unlocked the apartment door, fumbling with his key in the deadbolt for a moment because his stupid hands were shaking slightly in anticipation, _goddamnit,_ and finally threw the door open, they were greeted by the literal forest of trees Steve had accumulated in his living room.

 

It was then that Steve remembered.

 

The week he had bought six trees from Bucky's collective family members had forced a change in his apartment. Going from four trees to ten in a week took a bit of maneuvering, and Steve had decided _fuck it_ , he _was_ going to live in his own makeshift tree lot since the opportunity was right there in front of him. He had moved all his living room furniture into the bedroom and den, save for the flat screen mounted on the wall by the apartment's tall windows and a few of his favourite books. He had then moved his mattress out into the living room, settling it in the middle of the floor surrounded by the trees and stacking it high with his fluffiest pillows and blankets. It was pretty damn cozy in his opinion.

 

Decorating the trees had been a bit more of a challenge, but technology was _so good_ now, and Steve could easily get anything he wanted off the internet delivered to him the next day.

 

The lights had been the first problem, the sheer number of bulbs required practically blinding him and turning his living room into an oven, so he had found dimmable LEDs in warm whites and reds and greens, and even a few rainbow coloured strands on the internet. The reduced glow coming off of all the trees combined was much more bearable now, and lit the apartment more like a large group of multicoloured candles would, instead of a collection of indoor fiery suns.

 

The next hurdle had been the ornaments. He had started with traditional golds and silvers, but he'd had eleven trees to fill so that got old fast, and he had quickly moved on to whatever decorations caught his eye. One tree was full of little nature-based ornaments, felted squirrels and foxes and deer peeking out from between the branches, cranberry garland keeping things simple and organic looking. Another tree however, was covered completely in something called Pokemon, the cute little characters making Steve smile when he had first seen them online. He also had a tree covered entirely in food shaped ornaments, one devoted to snowflakes, and yet another completely covered in cats. Eleven trees was a lot, but Steve had been proud of his creativity at the time, and thought the eclectic look was kind of neat.

 

Now though, he was just mortified.  

 

Gentleman that he was, he had let Bucky walk through the door first, so there was no hiding the bright display lit up in front of them. These were the end times.

 

Bucky moved into the miniature forest slowly, his back to Steve as he entered the perimeter of trees set up around the mattress. He went to each tree individually, gracing a branch or a particularity nice ornament with a soft touch here and there. Steve stood frozen in the entryway still, too scared to move.

 

Bucky completed his circuit after a few minutes, lingering in front of Steve's Avengers tree (it was like an inside joke with himself, ok?) and looking thoughtfully at a mini ornamental replica of Steve's shield before finally turning around, his grey eyes wide with what could only be described as awe.  

 

“You bought these trees for me. To see me.” It wasn't a question.

 

Steve bobbed his head, his pulse pounding and heart in his throat. “I did.”

 

Bucky's brow furrowed, and Steve felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment. “But… I'm. I mean… I'm just _me_.” Bucky gestured to himself vaguely, eyes not leaving Steve's.

 

“Oh Buck.” Steve strode forward suddenly, his paralysis broken with the need to set things right. _“Exactly.”_

 

And finally, _finally,_ Steve's lips were touching Bucky's, Bucky inhaling sharply in surprise before letting out an honest to god moan that Steve felt all the way down to his toes before delving deeper into the kiss.

 

Bucky’s lips were soft and inviting, opening wide with a gasp as Steve licked his way into the warm heat of his mouth. Suddenly Bucky’s hand was in his hair and Steve couldn’t help but let out a groan as Bucky tugged just right, keeping him right where he wanted him.

 

Steve didn’t know where to put his own hands, where to even begin, because he wanted to touch everywhere, feel everything, and he was feverish with it. He settled one on the nape of Bucky’s neck, fingers stroking through the soft hair there, and the other landed on Bucky’s hip, Steve’s hand inching upwards just slightly under Bucky’s clothes to touch the creamy skin that lived there. Bucky shuddered at the contact, and Steve pulled back, suddenly afraid he had pushed too far.

 

Bucky cut him off before he could speak though, his words breathy and desperate, his eyes a glassy silver and lips already perfectly kiss-swollen. “Steve, please. I need...”

 

“What do you need Buck. Tell me.” Steve leaned back in, running his nose along Bucky’s delicious jawline, nibbling at his neck and leaving his mark there.

 

“I need... I need you to touch me.” He stuttered out, and Steve wasted no time in giving him what he asked for.

 

Steve wedged his thigh between Bucky’s legs, Bucky’s body immediately leaning into it and gently grinding, _undulating,_ Steve thought absently, against him. Bucky was hard and thick even through his jeans, and Steve needed to see him, feel him, immediately.

 

He wanted to do things right though and forced his hands to move to Bucky’s jacket first, pushing it off his shoulders to access the sweater underneath, Steve breaking off a kiss to raise it above his head and off. His own jacket and shirt followed suit, and then their bare chests were touching, the brush of Bucky’s smooth pale skin the sweetest sensation against his own.

 

“C’mon,” he murmured against Bucky’s mouth, tugging gently at his full bottom lip with his teeth before taking Bucky’s hand and guiding him down on to the mattress, the extra pillows and blankets cascading the short distance to the floor in his haste to get them settled.

 

Bucky looked divine in Steve’s bed, his ivory skin contrasting beautifully with the silky midnight purple sheets Clint had gotten him last Christmas, as Steve pressed him gently down into the mattress from above.

 

“Oh sweetheart,” Steve couldn’t help himself from softly exclaiming, and Bucky let out a keening whimper, a noise of want at that, his body still moving in slow waves against Steve.

 

The remainder of their clothes were shed quickly, and Steve pulled back for a moment to breathe, to take in the moment and remember Bucky just like this, open and inviting with his body and heart as he trusted himself to Steve completely. He was _perfect,_ brave and fantastical and so, achingly beautiful, and as Steve took him into his mouth that night, later filling Bucky up with himself until they were both panting and sated and twined together like nothing in the universe could separate them, Steve felt for the first time since coming out of the ice that he was exactly where he belonged.

 

* * *

 

When Bucky woke up on Christmas morning, it was because something was hitting his foot. He blinked his bleary eyes open to see daylight streaming through the windows, Steve still fast asleep and snoring softly on the mattress beside him, his golden hair all tousled, adorable and sexy. Bucky couldn’t help but smile, running his fingers lightly through the tresses in an attempt to smooth them, the locks of hair rebelling purely because they were attached to Steve.

 

The hitting continued, and Bucky finally glanced down to see a little robot vacuum dutifully attempting to do its job around his foot as it hung slightly over the end of the mattress. It had cut a cute little maze through the pine needles that littered the floor, and Bucky pulled his foot back in so it could go about its business. It puttered along merrily, now freed from obstructions, oddly endearing in its actions considering it was a household appliance.

 

When Bucky turned back to Steve he was met with half hooded blue eyes, sleepy but seemingly delighted by what they were seeing.

 

“I was only supposed to be there for the setup, you know,” Bucky broke the silence of the morning with a small smile, his voice quiet, not daring to jar the peaceful stillness they were sharing.

 

Steve made a questioning noise in his throat, so Bucky continued. “At the tree lot. I was only meant to be there for two days setting up the lights and trees. But after you came back the second time, I thought maybe you would be in again. So I kept coming back, in case you did too.”

 

Steve’s smile was blinding now, his blue eyes sparkling in the morning light, and Bucky felt the blood rush to his cheeks as Steve pulled him in close to snuggle, his body warm and firm under the soft blankets.

 

“Merry Christmas Buck.” Steve whispered into his ear, his breath hot and enticing on his skin.

 

Bucky couldn’t help but grin back, gazing around the apartment at their dozen Christmas trees before leaning in for a kiss, the first of many Christmas morning kisses to come. “Merry Christmas Steve.”

 

Steve and Bucky by [warlockintraining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockInTraining/pseuds/WarlockInTraining)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Drop me a comment or kudos if you liked it or just wanna chat about cutie pie boys at Christmas.
> 
> There is now artwork by [warlockintraining!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockInTraining/pseuds/WarlockInTraining) Their first drawing is at the end of chapter one, the second is at the end of chapter three, and the third will be posted with chapter six on December 23rd. Thank you again for your beautiful work and generosity! <3<3<3


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